


there will come a soldier

by museicalitea



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dancing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23359165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/pseuds/museicalitea
Summary: Tonight’s dance is one from a lakeside county, set to an old tune known through the lands. Guanghong finds himself singing along when Leo sets his lute to strum the tune slowly behind them, and Leo laughs aloud before joining in. Even when he’s breaking the words to sing the dance steps, his voice is melodious, moreso than anyone else’s in Hasetsu, a rich, low tenor, and the sound of it stirs something in the air, like the sunset is spiralling its way into their dance.And there’s always something that lifts within Guanghong when Leo starts making music, even when he’s not feeding his magic into it.
Relationships: Leo de la Iglesia & Ji Guang-Hong, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong
Kudos: 7
Collections: Valentine's Day Lockers 2020





	there will come a soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mayerwien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayerwien/gifts).
  * Inspired by [tell me that there’s something more than this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032297) by [mayerwien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayerwien/pseuds/mayerwien). 



> Happy Valentine's Lockers May!! I gift you a little homage to your beautiful fantasy AU, complete with dancing to "Soldier, Poet, King" by the Oh Hellos. Thank you for all the beautiful stories you've shared in this AU and everywhere else, for all the sprints and windmilling, and for generally being one of the loveliest people I know <3
> 
> Everyone else: this is inspired by May (and Meg)'s gorgeous fantasy AU series _[Stopping For a Spell](https://archiveofourown.org/series/635516)_ which you should absolutely check out pronto, it's so charming and has such wonderful fantasy writing. For context: Leo is a music mage hailing originally from an itinerant performance troupe, and Guanghong is a super powerful battle mage with Xtreme Fire Power which is my favourite concept in this whole AU HAHAHA

"And we finish spinning as the music slows—and we cross back to our starting places to bow. You’ll hear it in the music when it comes up, it goes like—" Leo purses his lips, and strokes his hand through the air like he’s waving someone off, and his lute, on its cloth on the ground, strums out the notes in the same rhythm. "Make sense?"

Guanghong nods, and Leo beams at him.

"Shall I get my lute in? It makes more sense with the music playing, I promise."

"One more time without the music? I’m not sure about the crossing partners bit before the spinning bit and the—other… spinning bit…"

"We can go over them!"

It’s spring—the trees are in full blossom and the fields lush and green. There’s something like a breath of fresh air over Hasetsu, with winter laid aside and the countryside allowed to stretch its limbs and truly, fully come alive. Isabella and Jean-Jacques are working on salves and spells to remedy the hay fever that falls upon every other person this time of year; Yakov and his apprentice Yuri are out more days than not with the abundance of newborn animals around; and every time Guanghong passes by his rooms, Leo is practising festival songs.

"I need to teach them to my instruments before midsummer comes around," he said to Guanghong just a few weeks ago. "They sometimes forget over winter, and I need to get my speed back up for the dance songs. Oh—I’ve been meaning to ask you—do you have any dances you want me to play at Sunreturn? I take requests for friends." He winked, and smiled at Guanghong in that bright, inviting way of his, that way which makes Guanghong feel like there is nothing that will make him feel better than to tell Leo whatever’s on his mind.

It still gnaws at Guanghong’s gut that he hesitated to answer; for, truth be told, this is the first Sunreturn he’ll have celebrated in two years. He was too young to learn many of the dances in his old village, and the other children he might have danced with were scared of his immense power, still not fully under control; and he would feast and sing at the university with all the other students, but when the dancing came around, he would always find a way to sneak out to seek a quiet place to finish his latest book.

But if Leo had been disappointed that Guanghong had nothing to offer, he never showed it; he merely said, with a twinkle in his eye and a promise in his smile,  _ well, I’ll have to teach you then, won’t I? _

True to his word, every week since then they’ve found time to sneak away, snatch a few hours of the afternoon, and Leo has taught Guanghong dances from all over the world.

Tonight’s dance is one from a lakeside county, set to an old tune known throughout the lands. Guanghong finds himself singing along when Leo sets his lute to strum the tune slowly behind them, and Leo laughs aloud before joining in. Even when he’s breaking the words to sing the dance steps, his voice is melodious, moreso than anyone else’s in Hasetsu, a rich, low tenor, and the sound of it stirs something in the air, like the sunset is spiralling its way into their dance.

There’s always something that lifts within Guanghong when Leo starts making music, even when he’s not feeding his magic into it. The very joy that emanates when Leo is singing or playing his fiddle wields its own kind of power, and it feels almost more striking than any of the great displays from the masters at the university.

At one point when they’re going over the same crossover move for the seventh time because he  _ still doesn’t get it _ , Guanghong almost apologises. Almost—for as soon as he opens his mouth, Leo starts to talk, like he's thinking out loud.

"This is really nice, you know? Getting to dance again."

Guanghong has to ask.

"Again?"

"Well… I mean, I don't get to do so much dancing these days." He gestures to his lute, resting on its cloth on the grass beside his beloved fiddle. "Every dance needs a musician, right?"

_ No, _ Guanghong finds himself thinking, all of a sudden.  _ They don’t. Not if you have to miss out. That’s not— _

_ —fair— _

_ —right— _

_ —what you should get out of this. Leo— _

There’s something Guanghong thinks in that moment: how he would tear a whole city down for Leo—how he would tear Hasetsu down for Leo in that instant—how nothing is more important to him—

And when did he last feel like this?

He thought the only time he would ever feel this hard, this horribly about something would be when he was called up to defend the kingdom as a war mage in the army.

But the thought vanishes as quickly as it came as Leo plucks at his lute a couple of times to get it back in tune, lays it down, and holds out his hand.

Leo’s hand is warm, tender; calloused from a lifetime of fingering his fiddle and strumming his lute, and yet so gentle as he leads Guanghong in that dance which starts gentle, and then builds and builds until the whole village is dancing and spinning along with the sound reaching into the heavens.

Guanghong has known this song since he was young, and even though it’s old, the legend of a prophecy turned into dancing music for festivals, he always clung onto the legend.

_ There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword—he will tear your city down…  _

"Oh ley, oh lai, oh lord," he would whisper into the night, like a prayer.

That was always his dream, and his destiny. History rewrites itself. Prophecies reveal their true form decades later, sometimes after centuries. It was never too much for Guanghong to imagine that one day, sword burning bright with the weight of his fire, he would be that soldier.

But destiny has a funny way of rewriting itself too.

Hasetsu is not a place for soldiers or for kings. It’s quiet. Not silent; there’s always  _ something _ going on in town, or some mage leaving on their travels or returning back. There’s this thrum in the air, near imperceptible; the magic, breathing in time with this little town.

And Leo—who has travelled across the whole world and back again, who came to this town, which is barely a dot on most maps, and chose to stay—brings his own kind of magic. It feels different the way Phichit’s feels a little different, laced with the spring of the salt in the sea, and the way Yakov Feltsman’s is imbued with the richness of a hundred thousand young mages. Guanghong wonders what his own untempered, untrained magic might feel like. Leo’s magic carries a sense of wood warmed by sunlight, and although it has a taste and a scent like all other magic does, Leo’s in particular seems to hum a little, all around him, as though the music cannot be restrained even when he’s at rest.

In three months, Guanghong will sing this song alongside everyone else in Hasetsu to the tune of Leo’s fiddle. He will get swept up in the crowds, a wave of flowing sleeves and bright ribbons and burnished goblets shining in the firelight, and they will dance, dance until their palms are stinging and their legs aching and then they will dance some more. And in all the rush of the dance, the partners weaving in and out and spinning in a circle, he will catch sight of Leo—

—Leo, so caught up in the music he looks to be almost floating off the the ground, who is stamping his foot to the beat and laughing out loud as he plays, who looks one with the dance even as he stands outside of it—

—and Guanghong will think:

_ Oh. _

But tonight, he is not so overcome, and he does not lack for words or depth of thought _. _ He thinks how lucky he is to have such a kind friend, someone to teach him all kinds of dances, all kinds of music, to play for him any time he feels sad or alone or lost, and to dance with him in this field in the setting sun.

Tonight, as the sun goes down and the field grows dark, Guanghong clicks his fingers, and a flame springs up above his hand. Leo gasps as though this is the most brilliant magic in the whole entire world—no matter that Jean-Jacques can bring people back from the dead, and Victor Nikiforov can create the illusion of a whole city for the royal family’s entertainment, and Guanghong himself was only just  _ beginning _ to come into his own power, only  _ just _ learning how to set the world afire—

In this small town, this is something  _ he _ can do. Something maybe  _ only _ he can do.

And tonight, Guanghong smiles back at Leo and waits until he has gathered up his instruments and ribbons and everything he makes magic with even without spilling a drop of his power and, with the lights of Mistress Hiroko’s inn in the distance, leads the way back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated ♥
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/museicalitea)


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